Diner
by violetdoodlebug
Summary: Ziva is exhausted when an American male steps into the diner where she works. Futuristic separated Tiva and established McLilah.


a/n: HI NCIS fandom! I have missed you. I've been over at the NCIS: LA fandom, writing some fun stuff.

This popped into my head over the last week. I put it in words, so here you go! Disclaimer, as usual.

* * *

She was tired. Exhausted, really. She'd been on her feet for hours now. The diner wasn't actually too busy, it was quiet and there were only two tables currently being served. But she'd taken a double shift, and filled in for Raisel. Raisel was a teenager, holding up a job and pulling herself through school. She had a huge English test, and needed more time to study.

Ziva liked Raisel. She was strong hearted, powerful, and independent. Ziva saw herself, or a younger version of herself in the 16 year old girl. So she was more than willing to offer to take her shift and give her the pay. Ziva had more money than she knew what to do with; her father had left her quite a legacy. She worked to give her something to do, and once she met Raisel, she couldn't quit. The girl had really grown on her.

Her Hebrew skills had really deteriorated in America, she quickly learned, speaking only in Hebrew at the diner. Most people here spoke English, but this little hole-in-the-wall ran on her old tongue. Speaking to Raisel in Hebrew was a real treat for Ziva, and Raisel enjoyed speaking English with Ziva.

So when a man came in, a white male, and spoke perfect Hebrew, she was quite surprised.

His hair was only slightly grey, his arms were big. He was slim.

She'd been aware of her own age lately; and she felt it in her bones. The years of wear and tear on her body from crime fighting and IDF and Mossad made her ache. She'd seperated her age into sections: the before, America, and the after. It was now, that the after age was older than her America age. It was hard for her to see an older white man. It was hard not to think about what age had done to the man who kissed her on the tarmac all those years ago. Hell, was he even alive? She'd never know. She'd cut him out. She'd never let him back in. And for all she knew, he was gone.

She tried not to think of him as she took the man's order. His Hebrew was impeccable, but his accent suffered. So she spoke up softly, "Do you speak English?"

The man smiled and nodded. He did speak English and he was from the States. He joked with her, and she found herself laughing. She didn't laugh a lot anymore. It was rare.

He had her laughing and smiling throughout his entire time dining. Near the end of his meal, he asked her if something was wrong. Said she seemed down.

"It's just, you remind me of someone," she said. She felt tears sting her eyes, but they didn't fall. After all these years, she could still hold her emotions in and never let them truly show.

Her nodded at her. As if he knew.

"Do you recognize me, Ziva?"

Once he said her name, she recognized him.

"Tim? Tim McGee?"

"It's good to see you."

He stood, and she hugged him. He hugged her, rubbing circles in her back.

"Why are you here?" she asked, in shock.

"Layover. My wife, Delilah, she had a job in Dubai. She's back in America now, but she wanted to go back for a visit. She didn't feel like getting out today after a long flight, so I came alone."

"Congratulations, I'm happy for you."

She started to form an apology, for the years spent and the moments she'd missed, but he stopped her because that was old and the past and he blamed her for nothing.

He pulled out his wallet and showed her a picture of Delilah and his kids, a boy and a girl. The boy was 7, the girl 10.

"She's in a wheelchair," Ziva said, without thinking.

"Yeah, that doesn't really stop her," He smiled.

"Your kids are beautiful. What are their names?" She asked.

"Kelly, and Michael."

She smiled.

"When did you learn Hebrew?" she asked.

"I actually did an undercover operation in Israel, it was long ago. Before I married Delilah. I was here for almost a year. The mission was supposed to be Tony's, but..."

She knew what he was saying.

"How is Tony?"

He sighed.

"He also didn't feel like getting out today," McGee said.

"Tony is here?" she asked, stunned.

"Delilah is paralyzed. Its hard to get her around sometimes, especially with the kids. I just invited him to join us, he loves the kids too. And I lied to him about the layover here."

She looked at her shoes.

"You should see him. While we're here."

"I could not possibly, McGee, after all of these years," she shook her head.

"Time hasn't made it easier for him. He's not angry. He just wants you back in his life. Plus, I'd like you to meet my wife, the kids," he scribbled his hotel information on a napkin, and handed it to her.

"Please think about it, Ziva. The flight leaves tomorrow at noon. If you don't come, it was real good to see you, you've been so missed, by all of us."

She held the napkin to her chest, but asked one more question of McGee.

"How is Gibbs?"

McGee was already at the door, but he turned to answer her.

"He's good. Just saw him, not long ago. Built another boat, tore it apart, built it again. You know the drill. He retired, spends a lot of time with the kids," he walked back over to her, etching Gibbs' phone number onto her napkin as well. "You should call him, too."

Tim waved goodbye, made his way out of the diner.

Raisel was behind the counter, tying her apron on. "You should go see him, Ziva," Raisel said.

Ziva shook her head. "No, you need to study."

Raisel didn't know a lot about her friend's past, but she knew the older woman had regrets. She knew Ziva missed this man, she knew that it weighed heavily on her mind. She didn't talk about him, but Raisel pushed, and Ziva didn't lie.

"This is a one time opportunity, for you to find closure. I don't want for you to regret this too. And see? My English is fine."

Ziva nodded. Raisel's English was good. But she still thought that she needed to make her study.

"Ziva, you've done a lot for me. Let me do this for you. Go."

Ziva had to go. She really did.

She went home, to her small apartment. She stripped out of her dirty waitress clothes, and slipped on her jeans, her boots, and a nice shirt. She let her hair down from her ponytail, and let it lace and frame her face.

She made her way to the hotel, and asked the woman at the desk for directions to room 230.

She stood in front of the door, and brought her hand up to knock. She was in denial. She couldn't feel, she just thought and knocked.

The little boy, Michael, answered the door, and shouted "Stranger danger!" and slammed the door in her face.

She giggled, and moments later, Tim came to the door and opened it again. McGee rolled his eyes at his son, as he let her in.

The room was a nice size, easily accessible to a wheelchair.

McGee introduced her to the kids, Amanda was much more willing to speak to her than Michael.

Delilah was a petite woman, but she was pretty. Ziva liked her, she liked her a lot.

Ziva looked around. There was no sign of her old partner, old best friend, almost lover, anywhere.

"He's next door," Delilah whispered to her, "and he's very upset."

She visited with the McGee's for a while. But she was antsy. Delilah finally pushed Ziva out, slowly. If she didn't, Ziva would never have left.

Ziva found herself standing in front of Tony's door. Her hand was above the wood, ready to knock. But she couldn't do it. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She was shaking.

Her whole body wracked in shakes, and her knuckles contracted with the door just enough to make a 'crack' knocking sound.

"What do you want McGee...?" Tony said, as he opened the door. His eyes met hers, and her heart raced faster.

"Ziva?"

She couldn't speak.

He pulled her into him, her little arms wrapped around his big chest and she fell into him. She smushed her face into his shoulder, breathed him in. She counted the years, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13. 13 years.

"Oh my Ziva," he said.

Words weren't working. Words were not enough. Touch barely sufficed.

"I've missed you," Ziva said, feeling those tears prick her eyes again.

He pulled her into the room and shut the door.

He slammed her against it, and pressed his lips to hers.

She was so dizzy, so high, so drunk on this man that she didn't mind how rough it was, how inappropriate it was to be handeling her this way, how they shouldn't be kissing.

But they were, and it was tension. And it was clear by the way her teeth grazed his bottom lip, that she was just as into it as he was.

He pulled away, ran his hand over her face.

"You're real," he said.

"I'm real," she replied.

He took her in his arms again. He asked her if she'd found what she was looking for. She shook her head.

"I realized I could never find it. Unless I was with you."

He hugged her tighter.

Things moved toward the bed, and soon they were tangled up in each other, the sheets. Clothes littered the floor, hands explored. She never thought they'd have a first time, and even then she never thought she'd see it like this. She couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe 13 years of separation disappeared in all of an hour.

"I'm not going to be able to leave you again. I swear, I can't leave you. I've tried, but I can't move on from you."

She gulped.

"No."

She shook her head.

"No."

"You didn't come here to make me leave you again." Anger rose in Tony's voice.

"There is someone I have to protect, Tony. I'm not going to leave her."

"I have a job to do, Ziva. I'm not a citizen here."

"When I realized my life had no place in yours, I devoted it to another person. I'm keeping my eyes on her. Her mother was killed in a bombing, her father is abusive. She's putting herself in school, paying for her own books. I will not leave her here."

"Your life always had a place in mine," he said.

Tony did not make the flight and trip to Dubai, and McGee and Delilah did not expect him to.

He stayed with Ziva for days, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into almost a month.

But he had to go home. He was a team leader now. His team needed his leadership. He couldn't do this.

He could not leave her. And she could not leave him.

He'd met the girl, Raisel. When he saw her, he thought of a young Ziva, inquisitive, insightful, living in a dangerous world.

And he really got to know her.

He became her friend.

Ziva slowly packed things up. Tony did his magic.

The three of them boarded a plane DC bound one month and 6 days after the afternoon in which Ziva David was very exhausted.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed, hope the end isn't as rushed as I felt like it was.


End file.
